The Envy of the Templar
by SourCrumb
Summary: Woken by screams from an unknown source, Cullen wakes in a room he has no memory of being taken to. What he finds is more horrifying than he was ever prepared for, as an Envy Demon has been following him unaware for weeks, waiting, watching... Contains adult content including violence, the threat of rape, and buckets of misery and angst.
1. 1 Confusion

"Cullen, please!"

Someone, somewhere, was calling for him. He was sure of it, they'd called his title. They had requested him. He had to wake up.

But wake up from what? How long had he been asleep? He couldn't remember climbing the ladder to his bed chambers, but he didn't remember working at his desk either. Not, not at the desk, he'd been out on the fields. Training the new recruits, yes, that's what he'd been doing. One of the newer guard patrol duos had gone missing from their designated route. It wasn't uncommon for a green unit to get run off by a bandit troupe or chased off by an unpredictable animal. He'd gone to check, it hadn't been that far.

It also didn't hurt that the Inquisitor should have been returning from her latest venture into the wilds that afternoon. The Inquisitor... why did her face suddenly swim through his blurred mind. Her eyes pierced through the haze, brought things closer to a proper focus.

"No, please, please... Please stop!"

He pulled in air sharply, suddenly surging with strength. He felt the cold stone floor under him, his body aching from lying on it for who knew how long. He felt lighter somehow, and realized he wasn't being weighed down by his usual armor. As he got to his feet, he took in both his health and his surroundings. He was in what had to be a cell. Sure enough, the solitary door was locked, but not on his side. He was able to walk around the perimeter without pain, and he didn't appear to have any major injuries. Just bruises and cuts.

He was sure he'd been woken by a voice, a woman, someone calling for rubbed his temples, sure he was losing his mind, when he heard something else. Something lower, a man's voice, someone speaking too softly for him to understand anything but his tone. His oily, hungry tone. There was something going on near him that was not right. He was sure of it.

He pressed his ear against each wall in turn, trying to locate the direction of the sound. At the third wall, he was stopped in his tracks as a high, thin scream pierced through the air. Then she cried out one word, just one before her voice was cut away. His stomach twisted hard. No... It couldn't possibly be...

"Cullen!"

He pounded at the door, trying to gain anyone's attention. Whoever this woman was, he couldn't let this continue. He began to slam the door with his shoulders, as hard as he could. Finally the old wood and rusted hinged could withstand no more, and he found himself stumbling into a hall. He inhaled the scent of grime, of death, and most of all, of lyrium. Red lyrium.

The screaming was easy to follow, and as he grew closer, he began to pick up other sounds as well. He could hear footsteps, low, cruel laughter ragged gasps of air, and... crying. He felt his very blood boiling, his skin flushing with rage. He could feel the air growing heavier with lyrium, could hear the familiar song echo inside his head. He ran faster, swallowing hard, trying to push it back down, far away.

Now he could make out the male voice, could understand the words he spoke. Now, as he listened, the twist in his gut began to ache from the storm inside him."You mages are all the same, big talk, but unable to control yourselves. That's why we need to control you instead... good for nothing, worse than even the knife-ears... Well... maybe good for one thing."The voice was familiar, but why? The laughter started up again, as well as her cries. Her voice was horse by this point.

"Cullen, please! Stop!"

He turned the final corner and halted in his tracks. "Maker's breath."

She was leaning against a pillar in the center of the room. Her head was tilted back, throat exposed, as she panted for breath. Her armor was also missing, and she was clad in nothing but her smalls and her shirt. The clasps had been torn open, and he knew the only reason it wasn't removed was because her hands were more than likely bound behind her.

As if this sight wouldn't have broken his spirit on its own, he found his sanity breaking too. It couldn't be, it made no sense! But there he was, right in front of him. It was as if he was looking in a mirror. Standing over her shaking body, in the armor he knew every last dent and scratch of, was himself.

Commander Rutherford Cullen.


	2. 2 Horrified

As his double realized he had entered the room, a wicked grin spread over its face. He raised a finger to his lips with one hand, and with the other, keeping her eyes away from the impossible scene, flicked a wave of power that could be nothing more than red lyrium. Cullen felt dizzy from being so close, especially as his body fought him for even the weakest of lyrium since he'd given it up. As for her, she was out cold, her head now resting heavily on her chest.

"I was wondering when you would wake up and joint our little party. One on One can be rather boring something, don't you think?"

"An Envy Demon? How, I don't understand!"

The Double walked over to him, still grinning that sickening grin."Your beloved Skyhold is not perfect, you know. What kind of Commander sleeps with an open roof, where anything could swoop down on him, swallowing up his thoughts, his feelings, his fears, his desires... You really were stupid to leave yourself so exposed." He stopped in front of the Commander. "Remarkable, isn't it? We could be twins from the womb."

It was terrifying how perfectly he'd recreated every last hair on Cullen's head, each individual pore was in its exact place, the scar moving as she spoke in the exact the same way as his did. "Why would you do this?" he hissed, trying hard to remain calm and still.

"To get to her, of course." His tone was so matter of fact that Cullen could no longer help himself. Despite his lack of armor and weaponry, he lunged with a roar that echoed through the cold, stone room. The demon stepped calmly out of his way, chuckling. "Now, now don't be upset. Look, I've hardly touched her." He swung his arm around Cullen's shoulders, steering him towards her slumped form. As soon as he made contact, the Commander's skin began to crawl, and he felt himself unable to pull away. His head began to swim from the pressure of the lyrium's song. Red was staining the music, drawing out the darkness of the notes, the longing of the melody. He ground his teeth, trying to keep himself above water.

When the pair reached the Inquisitor, he was having a hard time breathing. Her hair was knotted, and there were bruises on her upper arms, bruises that were already tinted blue and green. Her stomach was slashed, the blood soaking into the bottom of her smalls. Her legs looked as thought she'd been dragged over stone, with rough patches of torn skin on both knees. He reached out, and cradled her face in his hands, lifting so he could see the rest of the damage. Even with her eyes closed, he could see they were swollen from crying, that someone had obviously struck her several times, that her lips were chapped and red. "Evelyn,' he whispered, feeling hot tears gathering in his eyes.

"I'm glad you turned up when you did, to be honest. I was getting bored of just slapping her around. It was you I was waiting for, you I wanted to be here."

Cullen turned, ready to destroy this monster then and there. "What are you talking about, you waited for me?" He snarled.

The Double laughed long and loud this time, hands on his hips, loving every moment more than the last. Throwing his hand in Cullen's direction, he threw the Commander backwards with a terrible invisible force. Cullen found himself slammed into a standing cage, the lock clicking down hard before he had time to react With another wave of his hand, the power swung along to drag the iron cage close enough so that Cullen could almost touch her, just slightly, painfully out of reach.

He shook the bars hard, but it was clear nothing could break it. If he had his sword, a potion, anything, he might have had a chance. As it was, he could do nothing but watch as the Double turned back to the Inquisitor and gathered her face in his own hands, a mockery of Cullen's gentleness.

"Don't worry now, I'm not an idiot. This cage is very special. Sound-proof AND invisible to the naked eye. After all, I doubt I could keep up this charade if there were two of us here in the room, don't you agree?"

Cullen felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach as realization set in. "You... you can't.. you... you monster! Don't you dare touch her!"

"It's not every day a man gets to watch himself destroy the only thing that matters to him," the Demon breathed, before lowering his head and capturing Evelyn's lips in a painful kiss. Cullen thundered against the cage, howling the outrage that he felt pouring into his very soul. He was supposed to protect her, supposed to keep her safe. Not just as the woman who had woken his heart and returned the colour to the world, no, but also as the Inquisitor who had the power to save them all. He had failed in every way possible.

All he could do now was helplessly watch.


	3. 3 Confession

Trapped in his cage of silence, Cullen could do nothing but watch in horror as the Envy Demon took hold of the Inquisitor's hips, digging his fingers in to create what were sure to be more bruises. The pain of his hands along with his brutal kiss were enough to rouse her from unconsciousness, but as soon as she realized where she was, she began to struggle, trying hard to break free from her bonds. The demon laughed, breaking away from her.

"Really, you're only going to injure your wrists if you keep straining against the ropes like that." His voice was filled with mock concern, chuckling as he brushed the hair out of her eyes and trailed his thumb down her cheek.

"I will hunt you down, and you will never know peace," hissed Cullen from behind the bars. "If you don't let her go right now, I swear to Andraste, I will make you feel pain like you've never felt it before."

The demon turned, walking behind her now, staring directly at the Commander over her shoulder. "...make you feel pain.. like never before..." He repeated the words softly. "I quite like that. Maybe that's what I'll do to you, Inquisitor."

She lifted her head, and Cullen felt a swell of pride at the defiance in her face. She wasn't going to beak easily, but that was what would make this all the worse for both of them. "Commander Cullen, listen to me. You have to listen, you need to stop!"  
>She was trying to remain calm and rational, trying to reach through to him, "This is just sickness, this isn't you! It's the lyrium!"<p>

Cullen closed his eyes in pain, pressing his forehead against the bars. She thought the Envy Demon was him. She thought he was just lost deep in lyrium sickness, consumed by madness, searching for a way out. "Evelyn, It's not me! It's not! I would never do this, I would NEVER hurt you!" He howled, an animal wounded, a man unable to keep his lover safe. "This isn't me... I wouldn't.. I would never..." his voice broke, tears in his eyes again.

"I keep telling you to shut up, mage, and you continue not to listen."

"Cullen, listen to me, please. Please, it's Evelyn. The Inquisitor. Your Inquisitor. You told me I would always be protected as long as you were at my side, you need to hang onto that promise! As Commander of the Inquisition, you must-"

The demon sighed, still behind her. "Ugh, yes, I know. You won't stop telling me, "Cullen, stop!" he imitated her, a high, mean voice. "Cullen, it's me, your precious little Evelyn. Don't hurt me, you have to protect me for the greater good!" He reached around her, one hand taking a firm hold on her left breast, and the other snarling through her hair once more, pulling hard, her head back, throat straining. She made a sound of pain and fear that made Cullen feel as if his heart was being ripped out of his chest. "Let me tell you exactly what you are," he hissed into her ear, darting his tongue over the sensitive skin of her lobe in between sentences, rolling her nipple into a peak between his fingers, twisting painfully from time to time, enjoying both her whimpering and the reaction it had on the man in the cage. "You are a mage. Nothing but a dirty, common whore with magic rotting you from the inside out. Mage's have a place, of course, but you seem to have forgotten yours."

"My place is with the Inquisition! And you-" Sobs crept into her voice, no matter how she tried to be strong. "My place is with you," she managed to say, each word harder to say than the last.

"With me?" he asked, walking round to face her, to enjoy the sight of her her injured skin, her red face, the tears that were still falling, dripping to her chest, to the floor. "You believe that you and I are... meant to be together?"

Her eyes began to glow, as if hope had returned to them. She thought he was coming back to her, escaping the lyrium haze. Cullen swore loudly, shaking his cage, trying to ram it, to topple it over, but the magic it was made with was too strong for him to meddle with. "Don't believe him, don't. Don't listen! He's not me! It's not me, Inquisitor!"

He begged that she would hear him, but his desperate warnings couldn't reach her, just as the demon had explained. He watched her look up at his double with all the emotion her body could hold. "Yes. Yes, Cullen of course! Of course I do, don't you know? I... I love you."

Both he and the Demon froze at those words. Cullen was unable to breathe. She loved him. She, the Inquisitor, love him, the Commander. Even in this darkest of situations, Cullen couldn't help but feel a bright burst of joy deep within him. "You love me," he whispered.

"You love me?" repeated the Demon, and everything crashed back down. She looked like everything would be all right, even if he knew otherwise. The power of love could break the lyrium curse, could bring him back to her. It could right any wrong. She held her breath as he walked back behind her and rejoiced inside her head as she felt the ropes fall from her wrists. She exhaled deeply as she pulled her hands away, shaking them to restore feeling.

Then large hands pulled her close and Cullen watched in horror as the two shared a passionate kiss. When they pulled away, the monster stroked her hair, almost lovingly. She smiled, a real true smile, like a bolt of light in the darkness. Cullen could only grow more and more restless, knowing the worst was yet to come. He and the Double again shared a look.

"You love me," the demon said once more, not questioning her, just enjoying the prize he had unexpectedly won. He could see by the expressions on both their faces that this was the first time she'd admitted it. Could he be any luckier? It was impossible to imagine a better scenario. He dropped his hands to wrap around her waist and he leaned down to kiss those waiting lips once more. Then he stopped, cupped her chin in one hand, and stared deeply into her beautiful eyes, the eyes that held so much desire for who she thought he was. "You stupid little fool."


	4. 4 Deception

"I'm sorry?" whispered Evelyn, her expression unreadable.

The Commander's Envy Demon kept one hand firm around her waist, and slid the other to the back of her neck. She frozen, locked in place. Cullen realized that he was subtly re-positioning her, making sure she was always front and center in view. The cage was too small for him to turn his back, there was no way he could avoid watching the scene unfold. She was close enough that he could see her tremble, and he watched in horror as some of his worst nightmares came to life, a grotesque theatre performance just for him.

"Don't do this," he whispered, knowing his pleas were useless, but unable to help the attempt. "Don't do this to her, she doesn't deserve this! Nobody does!" He slammed his arm against the iron, pressed his eyes against his arms, wishing this would all just go away, that it would turn out to be a fever dream gone mad. "What are you even going to gain from this!?"

The Demon flickered his gaze toward Cullen and drank in the man's pain, enjoying the pounding ache in his heart, the repressed rage that shook his shoulders. He looked down at the miserable woman in front of him and gently shook his head. Then, without a word, he slapped her hard, knocking the unprepared Inquisitor to the floor.

She landed right in front of his caged feet, and he tried his best to crouch down, to reach her. He was within an inch of his goal when she was lifted up by the Demon's hand. He pulled forward a large table that sat off to the side. The various objects that had been scattered across it fell to the floor, some breaking, others bouncing. Cullen became very aware she had no shoes, that her feet were bare. The Demon smiled at him and held her up, as close to the cage as he could without Cullen being able to touch her.

"She thinks I could love her," he said, speaking not to Evelyn, but to Cullen himself. "She thinks a worthless mage could win the heart of a Templar. Not just any Templar, oh no, but the Knight-Commander!" The room filled with his laughter, and Cullen's voice was strained and harsh from overuse, and his shoulder almost dislocated as he attempted to touch her, to reach her, to soothe this misery from her. He whispered apologies and promises, threats and bargains, anything and everything he could think of to try and fix this terrible, terrible wrong.

She shook with the effort to keep her voice steady. Her face hung down, her hair shielding her expression. "I don't understand," she whispered, so low that only Cullen himself heard him. "I thought this was real."

"Andraste, no," his own voice shook uncontrollably. His heart was smashing into a thousand pieces and he knew it would never be repairable. That she might not be repairable after this was over and done. "It is real, this is real! Evelyn, it's real, I love you. So, so much." He swallowed hard, closing his eyes and praying she would somehow hear him, that she would somehow know. "Evelyn, I love you, I do, I do..."

He heard his voice speaking words he would never say, would never dream of saying. "I don't love you, Inquisitor. Love is probably the farthest thing from what I feel for you." He reached out from behind her, not wanting to ruin Cullen's view, and pulled the jacket from her shoulders. She allowed the fabric to peel from her body, heard the noise it made as it hit the ground beside her.

In response, she began to crumble. He could see the tears fall to the dust below, could hear the ragged sobs as they tore from her throat. "I don't understand," she repeated. "You were so nice to me. So kind." His hands had crept to her breasts, pulling her tight to his armour, letting the fur of his cloak brush against her cheek. She'd imagined that feeling so many times, to be pressed against him, but not like this. Never like this.

"Of course I was, you blind idiot. I knew you would fall for me, you were so easy to read. So eager for someone to love you, so ready for romance, it was hardly any effort at all to snag you. Stupid like all the mages before you, and all the mages that will come after you." His fingers pinched her nipples through the fabric, gently at first, in exactly the way he knew the true Cullen yearned to. He kissed her neck in the precise spot she craved, and she stiffened in horror. It was real. It was Cullen, Cullen who now tugged her nipples so hard she begged him to stop.

Of course! It wasn't enough that the demon had to look exactly like him, smell exactly like him, no, he had to have the same memories stored inside him, like a photo album of his deepest wants and needs. Of every last detail of how to please her, what she liked and didn't. Cullen remembered everything they'd done together, she was his everything! Not just because without her the world would end, but because without her, his world wouldn't be worth continuing. She lit up his days and kept his nights calm. She had helped him deal with his darkest days during his lyrium withdrawal. That stolen kiss atop Skyhold, the feeling of her lips finally pressed to his, her shoulders under her hands. He remembered the way she had melted into him, the way she smelled, the way she tasted. He knew his own tears were falling as well, but there was nothing he could do to stop them.

He thought of all the times he'd let himself wander through fantasies of fields, her clothing strewn across a picnic blanket, her silhouette atop him, framed by the blue of the sky and the leaves of the trees. He'd imagined her squeals at the scratch of bark at her back, her powerful legs tightly wound around him. He holds her upright as tightly as he could, never wanting to slip and drop her, his beloved and precious Evelyn.

Other memories came back to him as well, the times he was frustrated with her bullheadedness over the War Table. He had stormed to his chambers, locked the door, and spent his aggression on himself, stoking furiously while he imagined "accidentally" ignoring their watchword, driving her past her breaking point. Orgasm came hard and fast, dropping him to his knees with exertion when the spasms had finally passed him. The Demon knows both these fantasies and more.

Cullen slams his head back against the metal behind him, letting the pain spread over him. He had never before hated himself like this. He'd served her up on a silver platter. Worse, the Demon knew it, being deliberately cruel to her for him to watch. He was more than happy to have such an attentive audience, and he knew how to draw out an act.

The worst part of all was that here was no way he could help her. No way at all.


	5. 5 Rejection

He tried to look away, tried to not betray her modesty, but the Envy Demon was smarter than him, and with the flick of his wrist, the Inquisitor staggered in pain. As the final scrap of cloth fluttered to the floor he grabbed her tight by her hair, pulling her up to her tiptoes, watching the muscles of her battered legs shake. There was now a deep slash across her right cheek, dangerously close to her eye. The blood and the tears followed the same path, and her eyes were those of a creature that knows it is trapped, that it is doomed. Another wave and the ex-Templar felt himself weaken, felt his arms become leaden, as though filled with solid Lyrium. To stand was near impossible, but he knew the pain was nothing compared to what the Inquisitor was experiencing.

The Demon thrust her to the very front of his cage, so close he could see each and every tear-soaked lash, the dirt that clung to her skin, the depth of the wound. No words were exchanged, but the fury in his double's eyes made things clear. Cullen could not hide away, could not look away; he had to watch. If he did not watch, it was The Inquisitor who would pay the price, not him. The weights were released and he staggered back up.

She was struggling to keep herself hidden, crying in earnest as she felt the chill air touch places she'd never shown to anyone before, not since her first teenage crush. That seemed so far away now. The reality of the situation was sinking in. This was happening. The man she had been willing to give her heart to, her everything... how could she have misjudged him so badly? How had such a snake managed to infiltrate the Inquisition?

"It all meant nothing." Her voice cracked with misery. "I... I meant nothing."

"Finally, she understands!" He spoke to her, but kept his eyes locked on him. Cullen glared back, fire burning inside the Commander's red-rimmed gaze. "That's right, mage, nothing! You're just a plaything for your betters, and it's time you were reminded of it." He bit hard on the shoulder, breaking the skin, suckling hard to leave a horrific mark. She howled in protest and he spun her around, slapping her already bruised cheek. "I'm getting so sick of your noise!" He growled the words, his tone darker than she'd ever heard it before. "You worthless waste of Maker's breath!"

He dragged her to the table, shoving her face-down over it, making sure her sobbing face was turned toward the captured, grieving Captain. He'd arranged things so that he could watch his own profile smirk as he enjoyed her body to his fullest satisfaction. Then he kicked her legs apart, before taking a step back to take it in. "Andraste be praised. What a sight." He clutched at the sizable bulge under his armour, swallowing hard with delight.

He turned to shed his boots, calling over his shoulder. "I suggest you be a good girl and keep your legs open. I would hate to enjoy this anymore than I have to." His laugh would haunt both Cullen and the Inquisitor's memories for the rest of their lives. She struggled to break through his "Lyrium Withdrawal" as he calmly shed his armour, the cloak long gone. His leathers came next, and then finally his smalls were cast aside with her own. He paid her no mind, focusing only on the pleasure that lay before him.

Naked now, he stroked one hand down her back, tenderly, as if this was the real Cullen, as if he was going to be sweet to her, good to her. He tucked her hair gently behind her ear and kissed along her salty skin in exactly the way he'd wanted to. This only made her moan with sorrow and try to turn away. He turned her head back, threatening to slam it against the table the next time she dared move.

Cullen's eyes were dim, the light extinguished. His wonderful Evelyn. He loved her more than he ever dared to love before, and this was what it brought to her. Not happiness, not joy. No family in the countryside, no... she was about to be brutalized by a monster dressed in his skin. It didn't matter to him if she learned the truth afterwards. All that mattered to him was that at this moment, this horrible, awful moment... "It's not me, Evelyn... I would never hurt you... please don't believe that I would hurt you."

What choice did she have? The man she had followed for so long, whose voice had guided her, had guided the people of the Inquisition. He'd led battles, fought off waves of foes, protected all of them. He was good. He was not the man who stood behind her now, adjusting, taking his time to line himself up with her. "I just don't know," he said, rubbing his head back and forth over her opening. "Should I start with the standard approach," he asked himself before he raised his cock and pressed it hard to the pucker of her asshole. "Or should we jump ahead a few chapters?"

"Cullen, no!" she let out a wail that echoed around them and shattered everything that was left holding Cullen together. He slumped as best he could in the tight space, feeling defeat like never before. He sobbed openly, almost unable to see through the haze of tears. "Please Cullen, please don't do this, don't!" In response, he sucked one long, callused finger, then another and pulled apart her cheeks. He began making small circles, rubbing his fingertips gently over her tightest opening before pressing down. She shrieked in pain as both his his pointer and middle finger sunk deep inside her. The demon took his time, savouring every moment of her scream. Then he pulled her hair up to raise her head, making sure Cullen could see the pain that drained her face of colour, could watch her gasp for air, could hear her cries for mercy.

Cullen's hands were bleeding from trying to rip apart his prison, but that wasn't about to stop him. At the sight of the wild terror in her eyes, he felt his rage returning. "You've made your point! She's broken, she's hurting, you're destroying her! I swear to Andraste, to the Maker, you will pay for this! I will tear you limb from limb, I will rip your ears from your head and I will set your cock on fire, I will do anything and everything to make your life a living hell if you dare continue with this disgusting-"

His double narrowed his eyes smaller and smaller at Cullen's threats, and with a sudden rush of lyrium, he pulled his fingers from her, and swept the table from underneath her. She howled as he mercilessly yanked her by her hair, forcing her down to the floor. "I'm starting to get a headache from all this yelling, mage," he spat the words at Cullen, the meaning obvious. "I think it's about time we enjoyed some silence, don't you." She avoided his eyes, but her lifted her head with a jerk of his hand, forcing her to met his gaze. "Do not look away from me."

She shuddered at his tone, blinking fast, trying not to be devastated by the look in his eyes. She remembered catching his gaze from the corner of her eye while on the battlefield, or while inside Skyhold. Each and every time, he'd had the same look of affection, or admiration, of wanting her, needing her- It had never been like this. He had never looked at her as if she was hardly more than an object, or a creature that barely qualified as human. His eyes seemed to burn right through her, making her somehow feel even more exposed.

"Why don't we make this more interesting, hmmm?" He gently prodded at her mouth with the tip of his cock, enjoying the tiny flinches that rippled through her body. "Are you listening, mage? Nod so I know you're listening." He leered at her, grinning like a man possessed, watching her head bob up and down. "Good mage..." He released his grip on her, stroking her hair instead. It was so tangled now. She wondered if she could ever get it straight again. Maybe she would just have to cut it. "I want you to listen closely now, this is very important. I want you to close your eyes now, all right?" He continued to run his fingers lightly over her scalp, nimbly skipping over the snarls, soothing her. This was what she remembered. This was how he used to touch her. She nodded again, closing her eyes.

She was no longer the Inquisitor, no longer the Herald. She was just a woman struggling to keep herself together. Cullen was just a man who had fallen apart. There was no giant rift in the sky. There were no armies marching towards them. There was no Inquisition. The world outside the room didn't exist anymore.

Nothing existed but pain.


	6. 6 Scattered

"Excellent..." His hands entwined through the Inquisitor's hair in exactly the way Cullen dreamed of doing, twisting his heart, daring him to look away. "Open up." The head of his cock pressed against her lips and she opened them after only the smallest hesitation. The warmth of her mouth made his eyes almost roll back in his head. "Maker's Breath, such heat," he moaned, feeling her tongue press along his shaft's underside. She worked her way over him as best she can, knowing that the sooner she pleases him, the sooner she could possibly be free. "You seem familiar with this, mage." He looked toward Cullen himself, eyebrows raised. He could read the former Templar's stricken face and the way he kept clenching his jaw. He could see the salt trails drying on his original's face and grinned wickedly. One hand came to rest at the crown of her head, guiding her head back and forth, back and forth... His thrusts were fast and sharp, designed to make as much noise as he possibly could, enjoying the embarrassment on both their faces. "Or maybe you're just a natural born cock-sucker, hmm? If only there was some way I could get a second opinion..." That was when Cullen realized his free hand was slipping through the bars of his cage.

He pressed his back to the cage as firmly as he could, but there was no way to get away. Again his hands were held tight by lyrium, this time above his head. "Let me go!" He cried, trying to jerk his hips away from the fingers that deftly untied his leathers and the magic that helped him to jerk his smalls down. The rush of cold air hit him hard, and the lyrium pushed him forward, freezing him in place, making his head swim and most of his body go limp. His eyes were too heavy to keep open, and his vision was swimming. He could dimly feel fingers curling around his cock, stroking him to half attention. Laughter echoed dimly. The fingers were gone now, replaced by something else. Something wonderful. He sucked in air through his teeth, and let his head drop to his chest. Deep in the back of his mind, he knew the truth of what was happening. He knew the magic was holding him down, knew this was the last thing in the world he wanted. Instinctively, he couldn't help himself. He groaned as he felt the Inquisitor's tongue sweep across his head, felt her her suck him deeply before releasing his shaft, only to take one and then the other ball into her mouth, suckling gently. He felt his knees buckle, and for an instance he was grateful the lyrium was holding him up.

"Please Cullen... please come back to me."

His eyes snapped open, suddenly clear-headed. He blinked and realized she was whispering softly as she broke away for breathe. He looked down and gasped in horror. "No, no, Inquistor! Inquisitor, please, don't.. you need to stop!" He stared down at the women in front on him, the woman of his heart, giving him forced pleasure through an iron cage. He groaned again as she performed a tricky little maneuver with her tongue. Andraste, she was talented with her mouth, he has to admit that was true. Somehow, that made him hurt even more. She was trying her best to please him, but for all the wrong reasons. "I'm so sorry Evelyn. So, so sorry... I don't want you like this. I never wanted you like-" His voice broke on a moan as she swallowed his length entirely. He could feel the sweat building on his forehead, could feel the lyrium soaking into his very bones. The velvet of her cheeks and the suction of her throat were impossible to ignore. He was disgusted with himself, feeling pleasure building inside him despite the situation. As he felt his orgasm build, he grunted with frustration, trying to break his bond and escape this sick desire.

The Envy Demon was standing just behind her, stroking himself, still slick with her spit. He kept his eyes on Cullen only, an unbreakable stare that shown with a delighted evil that terrified him. Somehow, he knew that the moment he came (and he was going to come), they would reach the horrific conclusion. She would be taken, torn apart, right in front of him. He began to sob once again, remember her earlier screams, feeling himself teetering on the edge. He opened his mouth to scream her name- and then there was nothing but cold air. His cock shrunk with relief and he felt himself released from the lyrium's direct grip. Still, he could hear it fluttering around his mind, sticking to the edges to avoid the furious storm that was otherwise taking him over.

The Inquisitor yelped with pain as she was pulled backwards. "So sorry to cut things short," said the Demon, his voice ragged. "I'm afraid I simply can't hold back any longer." She was dragged over the stone, his powerful hands as tight as they could be over her skin. He positioned her carefully, steady as a table on her hands and knees. "I believe it's obvious that you're not a back-door sort of mage, right?" He pressed a thumb against her asshole, and she instantly went stiff. "You know, I think I've decided to take just a bit of pity on you, Inquisitor. I'll leave your sweet little ass alone, would you like that?" His mouth was close to her ear, his breath much too hot against the sensitive skin, and he chuckled when she frantically nodded. "Shame you're not more excited for this. One would think you would be thrilled to become one with your beloved Commander."

She had managed to keep it together while taking him down her throat, but he could see she was once again becoming overwhelmed. "Cullen? Cullen, you don't need to do this."

"Do what?" he asked innocently, rocking his thumb lightly over her clit. She gasped, her head jerking up as he made contact.

"Cullen, Stop!"

"What is it you want me to stop?"

She closed her eyes, her face turning red, not wanting to say the words. "I.. I can't.. Just please..." He began to rub faster, and she moaned, her eyes closing, lost in the heat of his skin against the center of her.

"Say it. Say it and I'll stop."

She shuddered and took a deep breath, trying to force the phrase together. "Please.. Please don't touch me."

"Where, Inquisitor?" His cheeks ached from smiling, watching the red of her embarrassment spread across her shoulders. "Where exactly should I stop touching?"

She opened her mouth, only to choke on a sob. His movements became rougher, faster over the swelling flesh. Her body was start to warm by instinct, and she felt as if she was betraying herself. She burst out, "Please stop rubbing my clit!"

Cullen hadn't realized he'd been yelling too until the Demon had roared with laughter. "Such a prim and proper lady, look at how shocked you are at having those nasty words leave your lips!" He ran his hands under her, cupping and squeezing each breast, speaking almost directly to her ear. "Those were nothing compared to the things I'll have you screaming later. I'm going to fuck you until all your fancy words and proper diction fall away. Then you'll speak properly for your station, properly for a mage whore."

He positioned himself carefully behind her, Cullen's screams drowning out her tears. The Demon ignored them both, staying silent and focused on his actions. Without another word, he took her hips back in his hands, eager to leave more marks behind. She shut her eyes, preparing for the worst. "Maker, you're beautiful..." He cruelly dropped his voice to the low rumble that only came out when he couldn't help it, that his desire for her spilled out. It had had left her breathless in the Winter Palace, and it had had her willing bent back over a hastily-cleared desk. Now it would be the tone that broke her. "Are you ready, Evelyn?"


	7. 7 Scanned

Cullen wondered if he shouldn't just let the lyrium take him over. Maybe he should just allow its beautiful music to wash everything else away. Sitting in his invisible prison, his chest heaving, unable to turn away as the Demon readies his first thrust, he began to plead. He begs for his Inquisitor, offers power and riches, land and titles, struggling to spare her this trauma. He is prepared to offer anything, including himself, but the Demon only laughs in response, shaking his head as he teases her, rubbing the damp, soft head of his painfully stiff cock against her clit. She is shivering, and there are no more words she can speak. She is being pushed too far, and has become dangerously quiet. Her lips are moving, and Cullen strained to hear what she was saying. It hit him like a lighting strike.

She was praying.

"No more! She can't take it, please! I'll give you anything, do anything! " he cried out, clutching the bars so tightly that his knuckles popped under the pulled skin. His blood was smeared over the metal, had dripped to the floor underneath him.

"Oh, you've already done more than enough." He's never seen a look like that on his face before. The demon's grin was that of a starving wolf about to eat a baby rabbit, and without another moment, he thrust his hips forward, driving himself inside her. She sobs, her tears pooling in the dirt, and Cullen can do nothing for her suffering. It only takes a few strokes before she takes almost half his length, and he is impressed. "My, my, you're natural with cocks, mage whore. Were I in a different profession, I could make a fortune selling your holes to the highest bidders. Look how much of me your filthy cunt has swallowed already. Such a greedy thing..."

"You can't do this to her, it's not right, it's not fair! She doesn't deserve this!" Cullen screams until the sorrow overwhelms him and he can do nothing but clutch the bars to keep him steady, digging the metal sides into his wounds, struggling to keep any composure. Every so often, he struggles to break the lock, but gives up when he realizes this is only making him pound into her harder, tearing through her and causing terrible broken noises to escape her lips.

She was now sobbing so hard that she was unable to make any sound often than deep, ragged gasps for air. Her nails dug into the ancient floor as she was thrust forward and then dragged back to him, forward, back, forward, back... the room was filled with the steady slap of flesh meeting flesh. The demon's pleasured groans and vulgarities filled the air, but she heard nothing but white noise, and Cullen heard nothing but her.

"Evelyn, Maker, you've the best cunt I've ever had, so pink, so puffy... so innocent... I wish I'd met you when I was a Templar... I'd have kept you chained to my bed, my personal little fuck mage. If you had any idea how long I've waited for this moment. Maker, you're just as tight and hot as I imagined. All I've wanted since you fell out of that rift was to throw you over something- anything -and take you like the pathetic mage you are." He had thrown his head back, eyes closed in ecstasy. "Oh, yeah, do that again, roll your hips... Oh Maker, Evelyn... yeah, do that... again..."

The air was being forced from her lungs more often than she had time to refill them and her breathing grew sharp. Her skin flushed, turned pale, turned white. Her eyes began to flutter shut. Her body grew limp, and he shook his head as he felt her consciousness struggling to let her have a moment of peace, of emptiness."Oh no, little mage slut. You're not fading out on me." He drew himself out slowly, pulling his cock out until only the dark pink head remained inside her. "I plan on enjoying as much of you as I can until you give out. You can't just tap out yet."

He raised his hand and gave her a hard slap on the ass. Cullen felt another wave of nausea as he remembered the fantasy he'd had about spanking her until she cried. At the time, it had been erotic, naughty, but now? Now he would do anything to prevent it. She yelped in pain, and he repeated the motion, over and over, until her ass glowed as red as the lyrium in the walls. "That's it Evelyn, let me get in nice and deep... I'm almost...

Then his back stiffened, and he seemed to pause in his attentions to her. The air grew thick with magic. She gladly accepted the break, collapsing onto the floor and breathing hard, in and out.

He had the information he needed. It was time to finish up.


	8. 8 Explanation

The Envy Demon swayed on his feet, releasing her hips. She lay on the cold stone, eyes closed, breathing in and on. What was this? It wasn't an orgasm, no, this was something different. He rubbed his head, and flexed his hips, growling with displeasure. "My time is limited, yours is waiting," he murmured, his eyes closed with frustration. Cullen watched in silence, uncertain of what was going on. " But I can't just leave you here like this, so lovely and ripe..." He gives her a hard smack on her inflamed ass, and her eyes opened. The Inquisitor shakily got back into position, lowering her head in shame, and he grinned in delight. "Look how much you've already learned...What a marvelous little fuck mage. If only I could stay here and fuck this slick cunt forever. I would break it in and make it mine." The Envy demon carefully gathered her hair in her hands as he spoke, gripping the make-shift pony firmly, giving it a few practice pulls. "Then I would take that precious little ass until you lost your voice begging me to stop. I would mark my territory and make sure you never forget your place again."

He sighed, spreading open her soaked quim, watching her swollen lips quivering, unsure of what to expect. "To think of this beautiful little hole being unfilled by deserving Templars... it's just heart-breaking." He paused, inhaling her scent deeply, focusing on the tiny sounds that now made up her vocabulary. "Oh, to hell with it. Damn the consequences, I must finished what I have started. I simply can't walk away now."

Cullen watched as the inquisitor weeps at his words, accepting him for what will hopefully be the last time. He cannot end this nightmare for her, and he is being destroyed for his failure. He realizes he is still outside himself, and he manages to fix his clothing so that he is no longer exposed. She is not so lucky. The Inquisitor was turned over, her ankles held tight to his shoulders and her hands scrabbling over the stone to find something to hold could all hear the powerful smack of his balls against her cunt, his rhythm smooth and steady. He had her on her back in front of the cage, giving Cullen an excellent view of her swinging breasts and empty eyes, and he can't help but try to caress the injured cheek. It doesn't matter that he knows he can't. He must at least try.

It feels like it takes hours, but it's only a few minutes more before the Demon seems to be reaching climax. His hips jerk at an erratic pace, and he releases her hair to clutch her shoulders, driving his nails into her skin."Say it, mage! Admit to me what you admitted earlier." The words come out through a growl and he slaps her ass hard, watching the cheek bounce.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she sobs.

"Tell me, mage. Tell me what you feel!" He s thrusting faster, driving her into the floor. Her arms buckle, and she cries as she realizes what she wants. Cullen can feel his last nerves fraying.

"No! Not now... not now!"

He leans forward, and attacks her ear with his mouth, still riding her to the dirt. "Say it and it stops. Say it and it ends. Tell me how you feel for me, mage. Tell me, Evelyn." One hand snakes around her neck, cutting off her air, enjoying the way her body jerks against him when she begins to suffocate. "Say it! Say it!" She frantically nods, giving in... giving up.

The hands are back in her hair, fingers twisting through the strands and pulling up her head. As he lifts her, she opens her bruised violet eyes, and her gaze seem to meet Cullen's exactly. His heart stops beating, and she breathes in.

Time stops.

"I love you, Cullen!"

The Demon howls his release, and then it's as if the room is filled with light. When the brightness fades, and his eyes adjust, he sees the figure of a woman standing over Evelyn's collapsed body. He struggles to clear his throat, to be able to call out to her for help. Then he realizes who she is, and he freezes in horror. Standing over his Inquisitor is the Inquisitor.

"Don't worry, dearest Commander, she's still breathing. I'm sure she'll pull through well enough." Her face is free of blood, of bruises, her skin clear and bright again. Her eyes are the same beautiful pools he would willingly drown himself in, and her hair hangs down her back in shining waves, not a tangle to be seen. She is untouched. She is perfect.

She is not the Inquisitor.

He glares at her through the cage bars. "This is all you wanted? This is why you took my form? Just so you could steal the Inquisitor's form instead?!"

"Not everyone sleeps so exposed to the elements, you know. It takes a great deal of time to accumulate all the knowledge and power needed to take over someone properly. You were easy, I had four, sometimes five hours to absorb your essence. She, however, is always protected. Always with her companions, always hidden away by guards, chambers, ceilings-" She broke away from the thought with a sigh. "No, I was never going to get her that way. I had to look for other options."

"And this was the best you had to choose from!?"

She laughed, a sound that used to echo through him. Now it rang in his ears, harsh and unwanted. "Sex and Grief. Think of how many memories you go through during those two events. Your loved ones, happy times, sad times, your likes, your dislikes, what you seek, what you fear... I can learn so, so much from someone going through one action or the other. So why not combine them into one event?" She grinned, as if pleased by her own cleverness. "It was easy to get all the remaining information from her that I needed."

"You will be stopped. You will be punished. You will know eternal torment for your actions here today." He could barely speak through his fury.

She smiled back at him. "In twenty minutes, the lock will spring, and you'll be able to leave this cage. You will be able to speak to others, and you will also cease to be invisible. Then you can run to her side, and help her pick up her pieces, blah, blah, blah." She was walking away, taking a key from her pocket and unlocking a wide door to the left. "Don't worry. I'll leave the pathway open for you. You'll be able to leave. Now, if you will excuse me, I have trouble to cause."

He let his head drop to his chest, tried to pull himself together, tried to be her Commander, not her lover. Right now, she needed the Commander, but he was unable to be either. He could not summon the strength to be brave.

Instead, he finally put his hands over his eyes, and let everything go black.


End file.
